'Ah well, I don't believe you would have been impatient to put the
old fellow under the sod. But I should have been impatient, I
should have been unhappy. You might have had the woods, to be sure;
but it's hardly enough of a business alone. Besides, a young man is
always more his own master away from his father. I can understand
that. The only thing is, George,--take a drive over, and see us
sometimes.' This was all very well, but it was not quite so well
when he began to speak of Marie. 'It's a terrible loss her going,
you know, George; I shall feel it sadly.'

'I can understand that,' said George.

'But of course I had my duty to do to the girl. I had to see that
she should be well settled, and she will be well settled. There's a
comfort in that;--isn't there, George?'

But George could not bring himself to reply to this with good-
humoured zeal, and there came for a moment a cloud between the
father and son. But Michel was wise and swallowed his wrath, and in
a minute or two returned to Colmar and Madame Faragon.

At about half-past nine George escaped from his father and returned
to the house. They had been sitting in the balcony which runs round
the billiard-room on the side of the court opposite to the front
door. He returned to the house, and caught Marie in one of the
passages up-stairs, as she was completing her work for the day. He
caught her close to the door of his own room and asked her to come
in, that he might speak a word to her. English readers will perhaps
remember that among the Vosges mountains there is less of a sense of